Times Change
by Zribbles
Summary: Angel feathers are a very expensive, highly sought after item. Angels are hunted for them, and sometimes held captive - so that they can continuously provide feathers throughout their lifetime, until the feathers are no longer good enough to keep the angel. Main story from Angel Hunting series.
1. Prologue

Angels were wild, vicious things.

Holy books proclaimed them to be humanity's loving protectors in the name of our Father, but the reality couldn't be further. They were like animals, cruel and predatory. Angels were strong, could easily break human bones like twigs. They could fly high and attack from above, or they could simply ambush from behind soundlessly.

They also had incredibly lustrous feathers, highly sought after for cosmetic reasons.

That was why they were hunted, human hunting parties growing very rich very fast if they could part wing and angel.

Dogs were not sufficient when tracking the elusive angels, and so humanity had turned to demons. Demons made excellent angel hunters, as they were natural adversaries, and were merciless when they caught their prey. Unfortunately they were also careless and a badly behaved Demon could easily damage the feathers that were the point of every hunt.

Little did anyone realise, that they themselves had made the Angels cruel, a measure of protection against the humans they had once watched over so carefully. That angels once _were _those kind and loving protectors. That humans had revered them as they walked the Earth, had spread their messages of joy.

That angels were wild and cruel because they had to be, to survive.


	2. Smashing!

"Bloody demons!"

Dean slammed his hands against the wheel, frustrated beyond words.

He was sitting in his car outside the courthouse, his younger brother quietly sitting beside him. Sam didn't seem so upset by the verdict the jury had reached – but then, Sam had only been a baby when it had happened. This meant so much more to Dean, as he had known their mother for 4 years of his life.

Until the family demon had brutally killed her, using his hellfire to burn her to a crisp.

Since he'd left his father's care just a year previous, Dean had recruited his baby brother and the two of them had worked tirelessly to change the law in regards to pet demons. Currently, the law was pretty lax when it came to demon ownership, and in some places it even compared them to dogs.

Such was the case in regards to demon attacks that took place on private property.

Legally, as it was private property, the demon was not required to be destroyed.

And even if it had belonged to someone else, the law could do nothing for them.

Their demon, Azazel, had fled once Mary was dead. John had spent the rest of his life hunting it down, and, when he finally caught up with the beast and shot it dead, he was arrested for his troubles.

After all, demons were pets.

And, in this country at least, it was illegal to harm one. Animal cruelty, even.

So, now John was in jail and Sam and Dean were without parents, but at least old enough to fend for themselves.

Sam had been – at least partially – through law school, and so Dean relied heavily on him during their work. In turn, Dean would drive Sam around, and provide food and motel rooms for each night as it came around.

This most recent failure was the fifth in a string of attempts over the years to get the law changed, and it was wearing on the brothers heavily.

Sam had half heartedly suggested they give up and just avoid demons, to which Dean had affixed him with a glare.

"One of these sons of bitches killed our mother, Sammy! Who knows how many others are planning the same? You can't control demons and they sure as hell don't love anyone. I'm not giving up on this!"

"OK Dean, I get it. I really do. But maybe we should at least take a break?" Sam looked his brother over with a critical eye, from the dark bags under his eyes to his rather crumpled and worn clothing. "Jesus Dean, you look like Hell! At least take a break to catch up on your sleep. Then we can carry on. We'll win, eventually. You know we will."

"Yea, Sammy, I get that. But damn it! Why do people have to be so blind?!" Dean swore and slumped back, head tilted into the headrest of his seat. He pressed his palms into his eyes, groaning. "Why can't anyone else see that demons are evil sons of bitches?"

Five minutes passed in silence after Dean's small outburst, minutes that allowed him to calm down somewhat. He took his hands away from his face and sighed, settling in comfortably.

"Guess we just go back to the motel, huh? Can't say I'm particularly hungry right now.."

"Motel is good with me." Sam closed his eyes as the impala's engine thrummed into life, a lullaby he'd fallen asleep to many times over the past year. It soothed Dean just as much, if not more, and he was completely relaxed as he pulled away from the courthouse and slipped into almost empty roads.

Sam was woken by the scream of protesting tyres and the violent swerve of the car. He hit his cheek painfully against the window before he sat up, grabbing hold of the dashboard to control his movements somewhat. Next to him, Dean swore colourfully, twisting the wheel frantically in an attempt to correct their course.

Sam's sleep-addled brain barely understood what was happening, but when he felt the _thump _of something solid going under the wheels, he realised at once.

Finally they stopped.

In a thick cloud of dust and grass kicked up by the wheels, they barely saw the tree coming. When they hit it, it was almost like time slowed down.

Then the three was suddenly much closer, and everything went black. All Sam could hear as the world went dark was the screams of metal dying down, and his brothers frantic shouting.

Sounded like his name.

He tasted blood.

When Sam came round, it felt like the world was on fire.

He tried to move and pain screamed through him. He cried out, then called for his brother, eyes shut tight.

"Sam, Sammy, it's gonna be alright. You're gonna be fine, you hear me?" Dean was there immediately, his hand finding Sam's. It felt cool in a too-hot world, and Sam clutched it tight, feeling like it was his only anchor.

"Dean..?"

"Yea, Sammy?" Dean pressed in closer, clambering back into the wrecked car.

"Hurts."

"I know it does, Sammy. You're gonna be fine though. It'll be fine." Dean's voice broke as he spoke, alerting Sam that something was _very _wrong. "Dean?"

"Yea Sammy? I'm right here." Dean squeezed his hand gently, rubbing at his own eyes with his other hand.

"It's not OK, is it?" Sam's voice wavered, growing faint as he spoke. He sucked in a breath, eyes watering at the sharp pain breathing prompted.

"Of course it is! You're gonna be _fine,_ Sammy. Just fine." Dean twisted round to peer down the road at the distant sound of sirens, but nothing was visible yet. His eyes dropped to the cause of their accident – An angel lay crumpled in the road, unconscious and bloody. Dean swallowed hard, now faced with a tough decision. He bit his lip till he tasted blood, then looked back at his brother. "Sammy, there's something I gotta do real quick, OK? You just stay here, I'll be back in 2 minutes."

Sam tensed, but nodded slightly, swallowing hard. "2 minutes. OK." He murmured, his voice raspy.

Dean squeezed his hand reassuringly before he let go and climbed back out of the car. He turned his attention to the angel, hobbling over to the prone form in the road and lowering himself into a crouch. He hissed with pain as he did so, his own injuries from their accident making themselves known. He ignored them for the time being, and checked the angels pulse first. Picking up a limp wrist, he pressed his fingers to the inside firmly and was met with a steady pulse – Angels were tough creatures. Apparently, tough enough to withstand being run over.

Next problem. Dean couldn't manage lifting the angel, not with his leg injured. He was going to have to drag it, and he had a feeling that was going to hurt. But, if he left it in the road it was going to get run over again. And there was no guarantee it'd survive a second time.

Dean grabbed the wrists and pulled, angling himself for the grassy bank at the side of the road. The angel was surprisingly light, and his progress was quick, but clearly not painless. The angel groaned in pain as the road scraped it's skin harshly, but Dean ignored it.

Sam. He had to get back to Sam, fast.

He dropped the angel's wrists once he was sure it was out of harms way, then stepped over it and headed back to the ruined impala. He'd never seen an angel before, save for pictures, and normally he'd be curious, but – Sam.

Climbing back inside the impala, for one heart stopping moment Dean thought his brother had died while he had been helping the angel. Then Sam sucked in another rattly breath, and Dean in turn let go of the one he'd been holding.

"Sammy? How you feeling? Ambulance is nearly here." He murmured, taking his brothers cold hand again.

Sam made a non-committal sound with his throat, eyes still shut tight – his head hurt from where he'd hit it during the crash. "Dean."

"Yea, Dean. Right here Sammy." Dean smiled, but it felt fake even to him. "You're gonna be fine." He repeated his words from earlier, not even realising he was doing it. And really, he had every right to be scared.

So long as Sam kept his eyes shut though, he could pretend to be brave, pretend it was all OK. For Sam's sake.

For, if he had to describe Sam in that moment, 'OK' was not a word he would use.

He bit at his bloody lip again, making no sound despite his eyes welling up with tears. He was thankful, at least, that Sam seemed to not be feeling most of it. Still wasn't even aware of what had happened.

The first stirrings of guilt came then. Dean knew how this had happened, and it was his fault. He had hit that tree rather than hit the demon that had ran out in front of them. He had swerved to spare a _demon, _of all things! And now Sam was...

Well, Dean had seen it before he'd hit it. The tree the impala had wrapped around had several low hanging branches. He'd hit it at the wrong angle and now he'd practically condemned Sam to his death. The tears came then, falling – silently, so silently – down his cheeks to the joined hands. "Sam..."

Sam frowned when he felt the wetness on their hands. "Dean. Don't lie. Not OK, is it?"

"The ambulance is here, Sammy. It will be OK. You will be." Dean unclasped his brothers hand with great difficulty, moving away from the car to make way for the paramedics rushing in. They jostled him back as they crowded around the car door, and all Dean could do then was watch. And even that, he couldn't stand to do. He slowly made his way over to where he had left the angel, lowering himself onto the grass with a stifled hiss of pain.

The angel was still unconscious, showed no signs of waking just yet, so Dean watched the paramedics from the safe distance he was at.

From here, he didn't have to watch what they were going to have to do.

A voice that was not Dean's spoke, and Sam frowned in confusion. "Dean?" He mumbled, his words seeming thick on his tongue.

"Your brother's just out of the way, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"Hurts." Sam's voice was faint again, the medic having to lean in to hear him. She nodded, frowning.

"Not surprising. Your brother got off light here. I'm afraid you took the worst of it. Don't worry though, we're gonna get you out of there and fix you up in no time!"

Sam felt an odd sort of tugging sensation then, that seemed to be centred in his chest. It persisted, and so he cracked one eye open to see what was going on. He snapped it shut almost instantly, feeling bile rising up his throat and dearly wishing he'd never looked.

Now he understood why Dean was so shaken, why he'd kept repeating that it was OK. Because it really, _really, _wasn't.


	3. Within an Angel's Wings

When Sam could bring himself to focus again, it was to the sound of frantically beeping machinery and hurried voices.

He was laying flat on a hard bed, a mask over his nose and mouth. He breathed in deep, his breath catching inside him as pain abruptly lanced through his chest. He let go of the breath, listening to how it rattled as it went.

He blinked his eyes open next. He wasn't able to move, his neck in a brace and body strapped down to keep him still.

Thankfully, it also meant he couldn't see his chest. For, when the impala had struck that tree, a low hanging branch had gone straight through the glass. Dean had avoided it out of sheer luck, but Sam...

Well.

The branch had punched straight through his chest like it was paper. Had most definitely punctured a lung, at the very least. Sam didn't know enough to guess at what extent his injuries really were.

Damn, with the breathing mask on he couldn't even be heard if he spoke.

He closed his eyes again, resting them from the too-bright glare of the ambulance lights.

They were still at the crash site, he thought. He hadn't felt them move at all – aside from carrying him on board – and Dean was hanging around outside, letting the paramedics work.

He quirked the corner of his mouth up as his thoughts went to Dean. Dean had escaped from the crash with only minor injuries. That was good. At least one of them...

The world tilted sickeningly, and now Sam felt as though his head was in the clouds. He fought against rising bile as the sensation induced a wave of nausea, squeezing his eyes tighter shut and praying for it to stop.

Instead, it worsened.

From what sounded like a distance, Sam heard one of the medics shout something. Then Dean was there, shouting his name, though it sounded distorted and faint to Sam. He sucked in a breath and fire seared through his body. He was sure he cried out, but he didn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything any more, but the rapid beeping of machinery that he was sure was meant to _mean _something.

The fire burned brighter, and he struggled, taking in another breath. Not a deep one. No, now he was gasping for breath. He wasn't getting enough air. _Why wasn't he getting enough air?_

He heard Dean shout his name again, faint as if underwater. A roaring sound filled his ears, and it took him a moment to place it. It was like a waterfall. Logically, he knew they were nowhere near any waterfalls. Logically, he knew it was the sound of his own blood he was hearing.

But the logical side of him seemed absent at that moment, shut out by pain.

He drew in another breath and it _hurt, god it hurt. _There was fire in his veins, burning him up from the inside out. He was sure this was what Hell felt like. The pain grew even more intense, till Sam thought he was going to pass out. Then a sweet, blessed numbness begin to seep through him. He stole another breath and was delighted to find it no longer hurt. The roaring in his ears subsided, replaced by a gentle thrumming.

He could no longer hear the frantic bursts of activity around him, nor the beeping machines... Not even his brothers heartbroken pleading for him to _Come back Sammy please please come back..._

He smiled gently, caught in a calm serenity. He was dying, some distant part of him thought. Somehow, it wasn't as bad as he'd always imagined it to be. Almost pleasant, really, now that the pain had passed.

Dean continued to plead, broken words and gasping breaths. Tears streaked his face, and not one of the medics even thought to ask him to leave the ambulance. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, choking out a tearful 'Sammy, please'. He sucked in a breath, one that was almost as painful as it had been for Sam. But from a different type of pain entirely, a growing ache in his chest that threatened to close off his throat entirely and choke him with unshed tears and broken words.

He was watching as Sam's lips curved upwards gently, and it felt like a knife to his chest, twisting round inside him slowly. Sending fire into the aching pain already there, sharp and raw. It twisted sharply, making him gasp for air and clutch at his own chest, tears burning at his eyes.

"Sammy, no..."

He barely noticed when someone new clambered into the ambulance with him, sitting by his feet quietly.

The newcomer shuddered with both his own physical pain and the weight of the emotional pain he could sense from Dean. He leaned forwards and stretched an arm up slowly, his fingers finding Sam's foot and scrabbling for purchase. Once he had hold of his target, he started to sing.

~ x ~

When Sam awoke next, the first thought to register was 'is this Heaven?'. Bright fluorescent lights assaulted his eyes when he opened them, bringing tears to his eyes. He snapped them shut again, then carefully reopened them and squinted into the light.

It was immediately obvious that no, this was not Heaven. Not unless Heaven consisted of a rather crowded looking hospital.

Recalling the agony he had been in the last time he'd been awake and fully aware, Sam carefully took in a deep breath. He expected fire at any moment, had even flinched in anticipation of it – but, nothing. His breath came easily, no pain flaring up inside him. Either he'd been out a _lot _longer than he'd thought, or this hospital had some _fantastic _pain meds.

Somehow, he didn't think there were any meds in the world that could completely erase all pain from having a _tree _go through your chest. Which left the former.

Dark thoughts of decades long comas struck him and he sucked in a deep breath, fighting down the rising panic inside him.

"Dean?" He tried, a little unsure, and was relieved to find his voice worked completely fine. Maybe not decades then. Feeling more confident, he called again a little louder, the panic beginning to subside.

"Oh, you're awake!" A pretty, young nurse smiled at him, her head poking through the curtains around his bed. "Your brother just went to go get some coffee, he'll be back soon. I'm Lana, your nurse."

Sam nodded, bemused. Dean, drinking coffee? Rather than alcohol?

That usually meant he was in a really good mood... Which seemed rather at odds with their impromptu hospital visit.

He was spared from his thoughts by a cheerful call of "Sammy!", then Dean was beside his bed. "How you feelin'?" He grinned at his brother, clearly delighted with something.

"I feel fine." Sam answered, puzzled again. "Like it never happened. How long have I been out...?"

"Mmm, about 2 hours give or take." Dean's grin widened further, and he shifted on the spot.

That was when Sam realised Dean's legs seemed absolutely fine, and things made even less sense.

"Two hours? I had a tree through my chest! That doesn't heal in two hours!"

"Nah, more like five minutes."

"Dean, what the Hell?!"

Dean laughed in answer, moving to one side so Sam could see clearly.

"Relax, Sammy. This is Cas. The angel we ran over? Turns out, once he woke up he had a few miracles to spare."

Sam stared for a long moment at the angel, before he realised he was doing it and he tore his gaze away, fixing it back on Dean.

"Angel? Miracles...?" He repeated weakly, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. Lana smiled, shaking her head.

"You're only here because you stayed unconscious after the angel healed you. You're free to go whenever you like. Physically, there's nothing wrong with you. It's often forgotten, but angels are strong healers."

"...Why'd he do it? We ran him over!" Sam exclaimed in confusion, glancing at 'Cas' again.

"You may not believe it, but that was preferable to the fate that awaited me had that demon caught me." Castiel answered sombrely, casting his eyes downwards when everyone looked at him.

"Which was?" Sam asked curiously, breaking the silence that had grown after the angel's statement.

The angel in question shuddered and drew his wings in tighter to his back, hugging himself.

"They would have taken my wings." He answered in a small voice, distinctly frightened by the very idea.

"Taken... your wings? Why?" Sam asked, bemused.

"You don't pay a lot of attention to the rich crowds, do you?" Lana cut in, smiling wryly. "Angel feathers are a high class luxury item. Take an angels wings and you'll get very rich _very _fast. It's a disgusting practice, but perfectly legal."

"Just one more reason for pet demons to be illegal, then." Dean scowled, standing closer than was strictly necessary to Castiel.

"Well, up you get Sammy. You heard the lady, there's nothing wrong with you, so let's scoot. We gotta get my baby to Bobby's."

Sam snorted softly and swung his legs off the side of the bed, getting up carefully. Even despite the repeated words that he was OK, angel healing was real thorough, he'd expected even a little dizziness – After all, he must have lost a lot of blood in the accident. However, it seemed miracle angel healing replicated lost blood too, and he felt absolutely fine.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked, absent-mindedly plucking at his hospital gown.

"I'll just go grab them for you, one sec." Lana beamed at him before pushing back through the curtains, disappearing into the humdrum activity of the hospital.

"So... What're you gonna do now, Cas?" Sam asked out of mild curiosity, looking to the shorter man. Castiel gazed back solemnly, before looking away to one side.

"I don't know. My brother was caught a while ago; I've been living alone since. Now the demons know where my nest is..."

"-Alone?" Dean cut in, surprised. "I thought angels couldn't stand being alone?"

Castiel gave a dry smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.

"We can't. But I managed, till now. Gabriel and I were the last of our flock. The others all either migrated with other flocks or were captured by hunting parties."

Dean let out a low whistle, clapping a hand to the angels shoulder. "Well, no more! Come with us. S'the least we can do after we ran you over, anyway."

Startled, Castiel shied away from Dean's hand, crouching low as if to flee. He relaxed only a little at Dean's words, wings ruffling nervously.

"With you?" He repeated uncertainly, giving both brothers a childlike wide-eyed look.

"Yea. Why not? Cas can come, right Sammy?" Dean grinned, looking to his brother expectantly.

Sam smiled at Castiel and nodded, stretching. "Sure. We do owe you, you know? And we can't really leave you alone for those demons to catch. Come with. We can keep you safe."

"But I..." Castiel started uncertainly, ruffling his wings quietly. "Angels don't really... Mix with humans."

"So?" Dean snorted softly, watching the angel. "Who cares? You're on your own and you've already said that's not normal for angels either."

Castiel looked unsure still, but relented. "I will... accompany you, for the time being."

"Great! Couple of ground rules though – No shedding in my baby. No weird angel things in my baby. And never touch the pie when Sammy buys food, that's mine out of all that veggie crap he brings back."

Castiel nodded seriously, while Sam shook his head with an exaggerated sigh.

"You follow those rules, you can ride shotgun."

Sam's cry of "Hey!" went unnoticed by both of them, as at that moment Lana returned, clothes in hand. "Out." She shooed the angel and human duo out, passing the clothes to Sam with a smile. Then she was gone too. Sam could hear her laughing at something Dean had said just beyond the curtains, as he changed from the open hospital gown.

Once he was comfortable, in his own clothes again, he pushed through the curtains and stood beside his brother.

"Well, time to hit the ride. See you." Dean winked at Lana, eliciting another giggle.

"Thanks for everything." Sam smiled at her as he passed, following his brother towards the exit. Castiel trailed behind them, cautious – and rightfully so. Demons had followed him all day. It was perfectly possible that they lay in wait outside the safety of the hospital walls.

With that in mind, he sped up so as to catch up with Dean, sticking close to his side.

Even on alert as he was as he passed through the doors into the dark car park, he missed the glint on shiny black eyes, and the flickering of a spaded tail.


End file.
